Runaways
by Zenith Aquilla
Summary: Hannah Baxley had to put up with her mother's hatred since her power was revealed- since their father died. Now that her brother's been thrown into this mess, they have no choice but to run. But where do two underage mutants have to go? It doesn't help that they've been specifically targeted by various mutant terrorist groups. A war's brewing, and they have to choose a side. X ?
1. The Instigator

**Hannah Baxley had to put up with her mother's hatred since her power was revealed- since their father died. Now that her brother's been thrown into this mess, they have no choice but to run. But where do two underage mutants have to go? It doesn't help that they've been specifically targeted by various mutant terrorist groups. A war's brewing, and they have to choose a side. X ?** **This really messes up the time lines, so don't hate. Just a warning. A friendly one. READ ON!**

**Rating: This story is rated T for violence, language, and basically everything that describes Wolverine.**

"Ma'am, I apologize for the intrusion, but-" The Professor stammered, trying his hardest not to go past the barrier of conversation into the difficult woman's mind.

"But _what_? If you can't do anything to cure her, I suggest you leave immediately. The door's over there," she huffed, jabbing her thumb towards the exit.

"Ms. Baxley, I assure you, it isn't your daughter we're solely interested in," he tried to keep his tone even.

"What you want my _son_ now too?" she shook her head in exasperation.

"Your children have been the specific target of various mutant terrorists groups. It's no longer safe for them to-" he was abruptly cut off by Ms. Baxley.

"Safe? You're talking to me about safe? Hannah drew a picture of my husband's death. We didn't know when- how- where- there was absolutely nothing we could do about it. _She _isn't safe. I thought she was the only monster- that _she_ would be the end but NO. No, Spencer was brought into this too! I have no children sir, and I'm a widow to top it all off," she hissed, swiping roughly at her eyes.

"You're daughter has precognitive painting abilities. With training she could unlock her true potential," the Professor went on, acting oblivious to the mother's rigid form and death glares.

Hannah and Spencer Baxley sat in awed silence, with their small foreheads pressed against the stair banister. Not even stopping to share a look, they let the truth they'd been dreading for so long sink in. Their mother had been growing increasingly distant, but when Spencer's powers began to show…

"Hannah…" Spencer's eyes glazed over, looking to his older sister for guidance.

"Come on," Hannah grabbed his hand, yanking him through their mother's bedroom. Shifting through her things, she snatched a handful of twenties. It was finally happening. Their mother was sending them away.

"Sh-should I get anything?" Spencer quivered, glancing around.

"No time," Hannah bit her lip, towing him through the back door, "We have to go _now_!"

The sharp autumn chill bit at them immediately, making Hannah instantly regret not packing anything.

"May I speak to your children at least?" the Professor sighed, pressing his pointer finger to his forehead.

"Fine," Mrs. Baxley narrowed her eyes, "HANNAH! SPENCER! GET DOWN HERE!"

They waited in silence for a moment, as Ms. Baxley slowly grew more impatient, "Where are they?"

The Professor's mouth fell open slightly, and his brow furrowed in concentration, "They're- they're gone."

"SPENCER? HANNAH? SPENCER BAXLEY!" she stomped up the stairs, head whipping around to locate her children, "HANNAH! HANNAH COME OUT!"

Hot tears streamed down her face, "YOU DID THIS!" she screamed, "YOU!"

"No," the Professor shook his head, "No, you did."

Cyclops stepped inside as if on cue, slowly wheeling the Professor outside. Ms. Baxley fell to her knees, sobbing quietly. Cyclops shook his head sadly, depressed by human incompetence. Rolling the Professor into the Blackbird, the Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters company jet. Storm, currently piloting the Blackbird, looked up at the twosome, noticing the evident lack of two children. A frown pursed her lips, and she focused on the scenery directly in front of her.

"We must find them," the Professor grimaced, allowing Cyclops to secure him in the blue padded chair, "Before the Brotherhood does."

"Hannah," Spencer whispered, "I'm tired an- an hungry."

"Alright," Hannah nodded, "There's a McDonald's in about seven blocks. Is that okay?"

He nodded doggedly, nearly stumbling into her with the combined weight of weariness and the early hour.

"Come here," she hefted him onto her shoulders, his scruffy chocolate hair falling into his half opened eyes. No one should have to go through this, especially at seven years old.

Being over twice his age, Hannah considered him her full responsibility, and if that meant protecting him from their mother, so be it. Readjusting him and swatting away a sweaty blonde wave, she continued her trek onward, the thought of her brother's health driving her beyond all else.

As the Blackbird erupted off the ground, Ms. Baxley ran outside, cursing the heavens themselves. Cyclops spared one glance, before tearing his gaze respectfully away. Some people are destroyed, but others destroy themselves.

** So, that was chapter one. I'll keep going- but it'd be nice to have a review to know it's appreciated. I'm definitely doing something with Victor Creed, cause, he's just great in general. There'll be a lot of X-Men v. Brotherhood, and Pyro'll come in sometime, but I'm not sure on what side. This sort of takes place between X-Men Origins: Wolverine and the first X-Men. Victor Creed isn't Sabretooth yet, but he's working with Magneto. Stryker might not be in it at all, but most of his team will. So, until next chapter! **


	2. Animosity

"Hey buddy," Hannah whispered, ruffling Spencer's hair, "We're here."

Slipping off of Hannah's shoulders, Spencer clambered to the ground. Hand in hand they padded inside the gleaming red sanctuary, quickly taking a seat with their newly acquired hot meal.

"Aren't you going to get anything?" Spencer looked up at his sister between bites of hash brown, crumbs tumbling from his mouth into the shiny red booth.

"I'm fine," she offered him a hallow smile. While sparing no expense of Spencer, they only had so much money, "I'm going to get cleaned up in the bathroom. You think you can handle yourself?"

He grinned up at her, displaying a mouth full of crushed potatoes, "Guess you'll have to find out!"

Giving him the 'I'm watching you' fingers she slipped into the bathroom, cleansing the sweat and dirt from her hands. Glancing up at her reflection, she jumped at the sight of an older boy lurking in the corner. Whirling around, she took in his rough appearance, completed with black jeans and a leather jacket. Running his fingers through his short brown hair, he sneered down at her.

"I- uh- I think this is the lady's room," she stammered, glancing up at him nervously.

"Oh!" he feigned surprise, advancing slowly, "My mistake," his face adopted a pervy grin, as he towered over her. Stumbling backwards, her hands connected with the slippery edge of the sink. Completely pressed against the wall, she tried not to let her fear show through her eyes.

A wolf whistle echoed across the tiled walls, as about three more boys in matching jackets made their presence known. They lounged near the entrance, having entered silently seconds before. Pushing off from the wall, they leered down as well. Each looked to be a couple of years older and a couple of heads taller than her. Seventeen or eighteen at most.

"I'd like to- I'm just going to-" she fought for words. One of the boys pattered his fingers down the back of her neck, forcing her to shiver violently. The entire posse laughed, the malice never leaving their eyes.

"Hannie?" Spencer's tentative tone reverberated softly over the restroom. He stopped short seeing the crowd of young men, his brow furrowed in confusion.

The boys spun around, only to laugh at the miniscule threat.

"Well what do we have here?" one chuckled, staring down darkly. Through the parted group, Spencer caught a glimpse of his sister's petrified form.

"G-go back outside Spencer. I'll meet up with you," all she wanted was to get him out of harm's way.

The boy who had spoken grinned, cracking his knuckles threateningly.

"Leave her alone!" Spencer frowned up at him.

"What're you gonna do about it squirt?" another spat, pushing Hannah for good measure. She fell over with the force, her hands scraping against the cold tile.

"STOP IT!" Spencer cried. They just kept laughing, unperturbed on the little boy's frustration.

Spencer desperately glanced between his sister, hunched on the ground, and the mass of howling boys. Roaring, he flexed his back, dark fur sprouting from his skin. His face elongated into a snout and his form steadily grew larger until, instead of Spencer, a seven foot brown bear rose in his place.

The boys began to panic, stumbling backwards, except the supposed leader who had started it all. He simply glared up at it with a look of disgust and hatred plastered across his face, "Fucking mutant freak," he sneered.

His overall control of the situation seemed to organize his gang, his confidence draining their fear. They crowded around his massive body, throwing punched into his matted fur. Growling in anger and fear, Spencer swatted at one, sending him flying across the room. Infuriated, the remaining three descended on him.

"Filthy bitch," the leader leered, directly into Hannah's ear. Heaving her to her feet, he pressed her against the wall, her feet dangling millimeters over the ground, "I bet you're one too."

Hannah searched his eyes frantically, looking for anything she could utilize besides the intense hatred he was radiating.

Spencer, barely holding his own, tossed another one into the wall with a sickening thud. The boy scrambled back to his feet, attacking with even more force. Hannah knew he couldn't hold his form very long, and if he turned back into a little boy…

They would tear him apart.

Everyone froze as the shrieking of sirens erupted from outside. The boys burst into motion, scrambling over each other to get out. Unlike the Baxleys, they had plenty of experience with police.

Terrified, Spencer spun around, accidently knocking a sink from the wall as he did so. Water flowed from the severed pipe, slowly spilling onto the ground. The ladies restroom was a wreck, with grey stall doors hanging from a single hinge and head sized dents cracking the alternating blue and white tiles.

"Mutants!" an authoritative female voice shouted from the main restraint, "Power down and come out with your hands up!"

Spencer collapsed, thoroughly exhausted. His form shrunk immediately as he hit the ground, an unconscious, and thankfully fully clothed, little boy sleeping on the ground.

Hesitantly, she peeked her head outside. Two dozen armed officers crouched behind tables and chairs with their weapons all pointed at the door. At her.

"Come out with your hands up!" the woman repeated.

Hannah tore herself away, glancing back at her inanimate brother.

"Mutants, I repeat! Power down and-" she never finished her sentence, punctuating again with a blood curdling scream. Horrified, Hannah grabbed her brother, crouching with him protectively locked in her arms. Gun shots rang across the restaurant, before all was still.

"Ms. Baxley, kindly bring your brother out. I'd like to speak to the two of you," the voice of a distinguished British gentleman called, "You're safe now. The humans cannot harm you."

** Magneto time! Get pumped! So, if you have any particular villains you want on Magneto's team, leave it in the reviews. I'm pretty sure Victor's not coming in until later, so… he's a comin. Brace yourselves. YEAH!**

** Is anyone other than me actually excited about Victor? Because if you couldn't tell, I'm pretty excited. He's fantastic.**

** I don't know where I'm going with this beyond a few chapters, so ideas would be appreciated. If there are any specific characters you want me to include, I will.**

** And finally, x? **


	3. War

"Hannah," his voice gained an impatient tone, "I will not ask again."

Heaving Spencer into her arms, Hannah slipped outside. She was not prepared for what she saw.

The first word that came to her mind was freaks. Only freaks could have green skin, right red hair, or spikes protruding from their head. No normal human being possessed those features. Even the mutants she knew didn't look so blatantly out of place. In the center, a gray haired man in a magenta helmet floated a few feet off the ground.

"My dear, it's been too long," he smiled, as if to an old friend.

Frowning, she thought hard, trying to remember how she knew the man. He seemed very familiar, but she couldn't quite place it.

"Wait," she pursed her lips, "You're the man who's always on TV… Magneto!" at first triumphant at her ability to remember, she suddenly recalled why he was always on TV. Leader of a mutant extremist group, he and his band were constantly threatening the well-being of mankind. This man had killed countless soldiers and bystanders alike, maiming hundreds of others. Her triumph morphed into restrained fear as she looked up at Magneto and his companions.

Too his left, two young men lounged in tense, almost defensive positions. While the spiked one seemed to be of Asian descent, the other's murky green skin made it impossible to tell. His stench, however, made it not only difficult to think about his ancestry, but was powerful enough to make her eyes water. She tried to discreetly swipe the droplets away, but this caught the attention of the woman on his right.

She sat alone at his side as if his favorite pet, and quite proud of it. Her skin flashed bright blue with runes running up and down her body, only made more obvious by her evident lack of clothing. Her yellow eyes flashed like a cat's, sharply contrasting with her red hair.

These people, though having now met them for the first time, had been present in Hannah's life since she could remember. The ruckus they caused on national television made them quite memorable.

Mystique, Toad, and Quill. It was pretty easy to guess which was which.

Spencer stirred in her arms, blinking up at the sharp change in light. He wriggled around, letting her know he'd like to be put down, but too shy to say so in the presence of strangers.

"The man of the hour," a broad smile coated Magneto's face, "You were quite impressive, you know."

Ducking behind Hannah's leg, Spencer appraised the ragtag group, "Hannah," he whispered rather loudly, "Isn't that the bad guy from TV?"

Before Hannah could answer, Magneto responded with a hearty chuckle, "Yes, I suppose that would be me."

Despite his light-hearted demeanor, his followers still stood tense and ready, as if expecting someone to attack at any moment.

"Powers like yours," he continued to Spencer, "Could be extremely useful. You see, I represent a group who are trying to work towards mutant equality. I wonder, why were you alone in the first place?"

A wave of emotion passed across Spencer's face, as his seven year old mind tried to wrap around what Magneto had said.

"We need more bright, young men like you to train, so we can help _all_ mutants," his tone was soft and persuasive.

Hannah narrowed her eyes, looking between the two of them. She knew if Magneto convinced Spencer, she'd have no choice but to join them. He was clever.

"Stop it," Hannah pressed Spencer to her protectively, "We're not interested."

"What a shame," he frowned, "And I thought we'd be able to do this the easy way. No matter," he gestured forward with his hand.

Finally Toad relaxed, and he began to slowly walk forward. Quill and Mystique imitated his body language, stalking ahead.

"Spencer," she gripped her brother's hand, "It's time to go. NOW!"

She began to run, tumbling to the side as a pink flash nearly barreled into her. Looking back, she was just in time to see Toad's tongue return to his mouth, a crazed grin fueled by adrenaline plastered across his face. Heaving to her feet she rushed towards the door, stopping short as a green glob crashed into it. She desperately pulled at the handles, but it was stuck tight.

"Spencer, this would be a fantastic time to power up," Hannah murmured.

He squeezed his eyes closed, only to open them, panting, with no results. He was too tired. And doodling the future wasn't going to get them out of the situation.

Nearly giving up hope, Hannah's eyes flashed between the advancing mutants. She opened her mouth in surrender, only to be interrupted.

"MOVE!" an authoritative voice boomed out of nowhere.

Hannah obliged, diving to the side. Looking back, she witnessed a red beam blast into the door, not only destroying the green sealant but shattering the door altogether. Through the glass shards stepped a group of adults, all in matching black leather costumes. Two men and one women stood among the mess, one strikingly familiar. Between the visored man and white haired women, the very reason on their departure from home wheeled slowly over the broken glass.

The Professor eyes the scene, his gaze stopping at an old friend, "This has to stop Erik," he frowned.

"Stop, Charles," Magneto laughed, "Oh, no. The war has just begun."

** So, I finally know what I'm doing with timelines and characters and what not. Stryker's team are going to be Magneto's go to's to get a job done. That way I can get em all in there and not upset hardcore fans too much. Since the Brotherhood was banded in 1962, and Stryker's team in 1981, this'll really be an X-Men Origins: Wolverine Fanfic. Mission accomplished. **

** BTDubs, this takes place after Wolverine left Stryker's team, but before they disbanded. Fred Dukes, John Wraith, Victor Creed, Wade Wilson, Chris Bradley, and Agent Zero are all still loyal to Stryker.**


	4. Slow and Steady

"Erik, you cannot kidnap any child that won't immediately join your 'Brotherhood'," Charles reprimanded, glaring up from his wheelchair.

"It is not _my_ Brotherhood Charles," Magneto shot back, "It belongs to all of the mutants."

"All of them that _choose_ to join!" the Professor scoffed.

Hannah's eyes shot between the two men, suddenly realizing what he was doing. Shushing Spencer with a finger, she slowly and carefully led his through the shattered glass of the doorway. Never taking her eyes off Magneto she took one step back. Then another. Pulling hard on her brother's hand, she motioned for him to run.

"You don't understand Charles. You never did," Erik shook his head, "You've polluted the children's minds with talk of nonexistent peace," he gesture to the children, or at least where they had been. Blinking once in surprise he looked back and forth between Charles and the spot. Anger clouded his features.

"How _dare_ you-!" Magneto's hands early shook with rage.

"Goodbye Erik," Charles nodded, "My quarrel with you is over, at least for today."

Cyclops slowly rolled the Professor out, trying to ignore Magneto, who was nearly spitting with fury. They had tricked him. Charles was probably planning to use to children for himself. And that seer…

They needed her. Any precognitive ability would turn the tides greatly in their favor. The boy could be useful as well, he had to be a level three at least.

The Blackbird erupted off the ground, carrying the Professor, and most likely the children, into the heavens.

Magneto's army fidgeted, unsure of what to do. Magneto raised his hand, a cell phone flying from a purse left behind in the clash. Dialing a well-known number, he pressed the device to his ear.

"Sergeant Stryker? I have a mutant for your team to locate," he narrowed his eyes, "I'm sure you can manage."

"Um, Hannah?" Spencer whimpered.

Finally slowing down, Hannah pulled her brother into an alley, "What's up?" she gasped for air.

"I, uh, well I never got to finish my breakfast," he sheepishly dug his toe into the dirt.

"Huh?" her eyes widened in surprise, "Oh! Sure, no problem."

"I don't wanna run anymore," he frowned.

"That's alright," Hannah nodded, "We can go, um, right over there!" she pointed to a café across the street. He nodded his consent, allowing her to tow him through the door. Buying him a chocolate croissant, they sat outside under one of the many umbrella clad tables. The external area was completely empty, abandoned at the thought of a warmer climate. Hannah stared down distractedly, only snapping up when her brother tapped her shoulder.

Looking up at him, she came face to face with the torn half of a croissant.

"No, no, I'm fine…" she waved her hand dismally.

"You just fought off four super villains," Spencer frowned, "Eat."

Grinning, she readily accepted the pastry. Peeling at the flakey crust, she delicately licked the chocolate from her fingers.

"Hannah, I gotta go to the bathroom," Spencer's brow furrowed.

"Okay, I'll help you find it," she stood.

"No, I can do it," he nodded to himself, "I'll be right back."

Picking up an orange crayon from the provided container, Hannah began to sketch on the paper tablecloth. Starting with a long dark coat, she started to fill in a man. Adding his short hair and stubble, she carved the sharp claws he donned into the illustration.

She was only lifted from her reverie when a long shadow cast over the table, shielding her work under a darkened veil. Turning, instead of seeing Spencer as expected, a living, breathing version of her drawing towered over her.

"I'm flattered," Victor smirked, "You really captured all of my good sides."

Leaping to her feet, she knocked over a glass of water. Ice spilled across the table, dripping over the doodle. He grinned, flashing his wicked claws out. Hannah stumbled against the short fence that enclosed the café, eyeing the new stranger fearfully.

"I'm- I'm not afraid of you," she gulped.

"Now, why don't I believe you?" he began to stalk forward.

Allowing one backwards glance she leaped over the fence, sprinting down the street. A toothy grin enveloped Victor's face. So it was a hunt.

John Wraith burst outside from the café, followed closely by the rest of Team X.

"What the _hell_ are you doing?" Victor growled.

"Covering your sorry ass," Wraith spat.

"There's two of them," Agent Zero pushed through, "We should split up and-"

"Just try and stay out of my way," Victor snarled, easily bounding over the fence.

"See you at the finish line losers," Wade bound past Victor, trailing after the girl. He unsheathed his swords, sparing a wink behind him, before disappearing around the corner. Victor snarled, hurdling after him.

The remaining men cast confused glances at each other, wondering when their 'bag and tag' mission had become a race. Giving the group a once over, Agent Zero trailed after them. The rest filtered out as well, until only John Wraith remained. He was about to leave, when a small dark haired boy padded out of the men's room. His eyes flashed over the table the girl had sat at, now coated in half melted ice cubes and spilled crayons.

John teleported, reappearing directly behind the boy. Lifting him into his arms, he locked the child in his hold. Spencer began squirming violently, attempting to free himself from the unfamiliar man's hold.

"Hey," Wraith chided, "Take it easy, little man."

When the boy didn't stop, he reached into his trousers, producing a shot of tranquilizer. The boy's eye widened seeing the syringe, and he struggled even harder. That is, until the sedative entered his bloodstream. He shook his head, trying to clear the fog that slowly encroached on his conscious thoughts. His head fell against Wraith's shoulder, as he lost consciousness altogether.

_How about that_, Wraith thought, something about turtles and hares passing through his head. Heaving the kid over his shoulder, he chuckled to himself.

_Slow and steady_, he mused,_ I could get used to that_.


	5. Grudge Match

** This chapter has some stronger language, mainly due to the fact that it centers around six grown, military men.**

Gasping for breath, Hannah rounded the next corner. She had no idea how long she'd been running, but no matter what turn she made, the footsteps still trailed behind her. She knew she couldn't go on for much longer.

In one final, desperate attempt at self-preservation, she exploded into a clothing boutique that lined the street.

"Hi!" a preppy saleswoman greeted her, "Welcome to-"

"That's fantastic," Hannah breathed, "Where's your restroom?"

The young woman pointed towards the back of the store, eyes wide at her breathlessness and ragged appearance.

Jogging to the shop's rear, she threw open the first door she saw, darting through. Her full expectation was to out wait the men, locked behind some bathroom door until they gave up and left. She didn't realize that out of the three doors, one happened to lead to, not a restroom, but the side alley.

Whipping around, she watched the door click locked behind her.

"Noo!" she pounded on the entrance to no avail.

"You know," someone spoke from the shadows, "I have never heard a story about a guy and a girl in an alley that ended well. Especially if said guy is an incredibly handsome mercenary. It just doesn't up your chances," he shrugged.

"Stand back!" she warned, pressing her back against the wall, "I-I-m a mutant!"

"Oh, you must be so cool!" Wade shook his hands, eyes glinting, "What, you gonna draw my future? I'm quaking with fear!"

"Hey," she frowned, "Not cool, man."

"I mean," he continued, "When I was told we were going after a seer I was all like 'Aah, a seer! They're like, these wicked cool oracle things! But then, you turn out to be this little blonde chick. A leetle bit of a letdown. You can't be over, what, fourteen?"

"Fifteen, actually."

"Yeah!" he snapped, "See what I mean?"

"You are really-" Hannah shook her head.

Wade unsheathed his sword, stepping forward threateningly, "Think _very_ carefully on what you're about to say, because if it'd not 'incredibly handsome' or some synonym, I would seriously rethink it."

"You know what, you're right," she nodded, "The word I was looking for wasn't 'incredibly handsome'."

"Not nice," he pointed at her with his sword, but in more of a dramatic then threatening manner.

"The truth hurts," it was her turn to shrug.

"You're not afraid anymore," he pouted.

Another shrug.

"I can fix that," his entire demeanor changed, a sadistic grin morphing his face. His relaxed behavior transformed into a predatorial stance, as he eyed his victim.

"Hey!" Victor burst through the door, "That's my fucking target!"

Wade turned around, rolling his neck, "And you killed my vibe. Thanks Victor. Thanks a freaking lot."

They both turned back to Hannah, shocked to find only a blank wall. Turning around, they caught a glimpse of her back as she darted around the corner.

Victor growled once at Wade before disappearing after her.

"Love you too buddy!" Wade called, giving him the one finger salute. Heaving a sigh he sheathed his swords, sprinting down the street.

"_Zero, what's your status_?" Stryker blared through the walky-talky.

"Target in sight," Agent Zero reported, adjusting his scope. His heightened vision allowed him to clearly see the Baxley girl tearing across the road, followed closely by Creed and Wilson.

"_Do you have a clear shot_?" he buzzed, "_Remember, they want her alive."_

"Y'sir," Zero nodded, his trigger finger itching.

Five… four… three… two…

"Whoops!" Chris Bradley's slight English accent was fully evident as he kicked Zero's barrel. The shot fired, ricocheting harmlessly off of a nearby building.

"You little shit!" Zero shot to his feet, towering a good nine inches over his adversary, "Why?" he demanded.

"I've got fifty on Victor," he grinned

Zero's mouth fell open as he watched Bradley waltz away.

"Son of a…"

_C'mon c'mon C'MON!_ Hannah thought, willing her adrenaline rush not to wear off. No matter what she did, she could feel her muscles weakening, her energy draining. Why couldn't she have a useful mutation, like super speed, or invisibility? It had to be doodling, _C'mon, just one more corner. One more corner and you can…_

_ UMPH_!

As she rounded the final corner, the corner that stood between her and a chance to catch her breath, she ran directly into an enormous wall of flesh. Looking up from the ground, Fred J. Dukes leered down at her.

Rolling onto her stomach, she unsteadily rose to her feet.

"You- you should watch where you're going," she rubbed her head, "Someone could get hurt."

"I'm countin' on it," he unleashed his full drawl, a grin crossing his face.

Propping herself against the wall with one hand, she massaged her temple. Victor Creed skidded into the side street, followed closely by Wade.

"The party's all here," Hannah mumbled.

"Step aside," Victor snarled at Dukes.

"Like ta see ya try 'n make me," he responded with a deep chuckle, but his eyes flashed with fear.

Hannah began to slowly back away, amazed by the two men's ignorance.

"Ah buh buh," Wade scolded as she backed into him, "Not this time."

She glared up at him, resigning to lounging against the wall. He folded his arms, enjoying her discomfort.

Victor unsheathed his claws, glaring up at his massive opponent, "Last chance pal, or this is going to hurt a lot."

"I'd like ta see you try," Dukes eyed him.

Bradley joined the circle, Zero right behind him. Pushing between Fred and Victor, he glowered at the two.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?!" Zero hissed.

"Step aside," Victor growled.

"Victor," he grabbed his arm.

"Don't touch me," he spat, wrenching his arm away.

"We're getting paid to haul her ass to HQ," he jerked his thumb at Hannah, who flinched, "Not to have a grudge match in every alley! Now sedate her and let's get the hell out of here."

"Actually, no," Hannah bit her lip, "I have this thing about needles…"

Needles, was the last word she said, before collapsing face down on the ground.

"Oops!" Wade slapped his free hand to his mouth, the other clutching a tranquilizer, "Silly me."

"God damn," Victor shook his head, taking a step back. Bradley looked equally disappointed. Sighing, he pressed a role of tens into Wade's hand. Wade snickered, eagerly accepting. Throwing the girl's body over his shoulder, he began to walk away. The rest of the team grudgingly followed, Wilson's gleeful whistling following them down the street.


	6. Sister

Wakey wakey! Rise and shine!" Wade nudged Hannah's shoulder, "Up and at 'em! Here comes the sun do do do do, Here comes the sun, do do do do Here comes the sun, and I say GET THE FUCK UP do do do do do do do."

Hannah groaned, flipping onto her back. Rubbing her eyes, she glared up at the merc with the mouth, "What do you want?" she groaned.

"Well, before we transfer you too, how should I put it, people of interest," he used air quotations, "The boss man wants a conference."

"Conference?" she furrowed her brow.

"Yeah," he gave a lop-sided grin, "That's the nice word we use."

Seeing no other option, Hannah grudgingly trailed after him. Feet clacking against the white marble floor, they made their way to the 'conference room'.

"Sit," Wade commanded.

"I'd really rather-"

"SIT."

Glaring up at him, she took a seat at the vast table's head. From the shadows, the man sitting opposite her chuckled. Leaning forward, the darkness melted away, revealing none other than William Stryker.

"Under normal circumstances," he began, "I'd keep you for longer, seeing how useful your mutation is. Unfortunately, the large sum of money Erik is offering for your return makes this not a normal circumstance. All I have to work with is your blood, not the mutation itself. Before you leave, I'd like you to draw a picture for me. And by 'like' I mean you will draw for me."

"Wait, you took my blood?!" her hand flew to the crook of her elbow. Wade snickered from behind, while Stryker ignored the question altogether. He slid a paper and pen across the table, folding his arms impatiently. Hannah eyed it, unwilling to pick up the pen.

"I've tried asking nicely," he shook his head, "If it's more convincing, I can threaten you."

Glaring up at him, she reluctantly lifted the ballpoint. He raised an eyebrow, watching her carefully. Wade leaned forward, looking over her shoulder. After a minute she stood, but instead of handing the paper to Stryker, she turned and gave it to Wade.

"Wilson!" Stryker barked, "Put it down. Wade, give me the drawing."

Wade's brow furrowed, "What's this?" he turned it around, showing the room's other occupants. Depicted was a horribly disfigured creature. Its skin was pale as death, dark lines painted across. It had no mouth to speak of, and eyes wide and unblinking.

"It's you," she smiled heartlessly, "Give it a month or so. Maybe two."

"WILSON! Put. It. Down," Stryker snapped.

Wade's eyes flashed between the picture and the sergeant. Hesitantly he put it down, "I knew I wouldn't look this hot forever," he hesitated, "But I never really thought…" he trailed off.

Stryker rose, trudging around the enormous table. Snatching the picture he shoved it into his trouser pocket, "That's quite enough," his frown lines deepened.

"The way I see it," he attempted to compose himself, "You're still indebted to us Ms. Baxley."

"How could I possibly be indebted to yo-"

"I didn't kill you when I had the chance. I only took blood. I didn't wait for you to wake up. Need I say more?" he raised an eyebrow. Her face twisted in disgust. He actually believed himself.

"You're going to be my eyes and ears," he leaned forward on his elbows, "We will take you to Lehnsherr. We will collect the bounty. And when the time is right, we will bring you back, and you will tell us everything."

"'When the time is right'? There is no way in _hell_ I'd tell you anything!" she spat, crossing her arms.

"I'd adopt a kinder tone," Stryker smirked, producing a sort of remote control from his pocket. Pointing it at the far wall, he clicked one of the many buttons. A TV slid out from a panel on the ceiling, an image flickering on almost immediately.

"No," Hannah whispered, "NO!"

She tried to get up, but Wade had a firm grip on her shoulder, "LEAVE HIM ALONE!" she screamed, "HE NEVER DID ANYTHING! JUST LEAVE HIM ALONE!"

"Now that all depends on you," he was confident in his lead.

"SPENCER!" she cried, straining towards the screen as if he could hear her.

Curled up on the ground, Spencer lay comatose in a dank gray cell. Hannah sobbed, ripping away from Wade. She ran over to the screen, stumbling over and around chairs. Trailing her fingers across the television, she vigorously wiped at a new wave of tears.

"You see," a broad grin enveloped his face, "You will do everything you say. I need you. You're my eyes and ears," he repeated.

"Spencer…"

An unmarked black land cruiser pulled into a bustling camp site, dotted with hundreds of alternating tents. As it approached everyone froze, turning to stare at the new abnormality. The door was thrown open, a man in a dark trench coat stepping out. Stomping around the car, he opened the door for the back passenger in mock politeness. Hannah Baxley crawled out, glaring at Victor all the while.

Erik Lehnsherr greeted them confidently, laying a hand on the girl's shoulder. She flinched violently, but he ignored it.

"The money?" Victor growled.

Gesturing vaguely behind him, a woman with short purple hair stepped forward, clutching a black briefcase to his chest. Victor grabbed it roughly, returning to the driver side door. He hesitated before getting back in.

Oh, and Hannah," he looked down at her, eyes twinkling, "Be a good girl, finish your homework and be in bed by nine. And hey, I'll see you soon."

She glared at him, a retort of the tip of her tongue. Before she could say anything else he slammed the door, driving into the night.

"A sister has joined us today!" Erik called, addressing the hundreds of mutants waiting eagerly around the main road.

"Ms. Baxley," Magneto, smiled, watching the car fade into the distance, "Welcome to the Brotherhood."

** Sorry this chapter took me so long, I'm working on a Supernatural Fanfic as well. It might not be quite as good as the other chapters, seeing I wrote it while watching Supernatural. Until next time!**

**Zenith**


	7. Renegade

"Hey little man," John Wraith sat cross legged on the floor, watching the little boy stir.

"Mm," Spencer replied, rolling over. He pried his eyes open, taking in his surroundings, "Where's Hannah?"

"She's out right now," he assured the child, giving him a soft smile.

Spencer's little hands curled into fists. He squinted his eyes, waiting for his power to take over, but opened them in disappointment.

"Sorry, man. Still pretty conked out from last week. But hey, I'm not complaining," John chuckled.

"I wanna see Hannah," he stomped his foot.

"Anything else?" he smirked.

Spencer donned a defensive look, but it morphed into thoughtfulness, "And maybe a glass of water."

John Wraith shook his head, a laugh forming on his lips. He turned to leave, stopping at the door, "You're sister? We'll get you two together real soon, okay?"

Spencer nodded, his eyes blank as the heavy metal door slammed with a final thud.

"Hannah my dear," Magneto looked down at her, "If you do not eat, you will not only become utterly useless to me, but the entirety of the Brotherhood. I invested a lot into your appropriation, you _are_ aware."

"I'm not hungry," she mumbled.

"Must I get Ms. Frost? Because if I can't convince you- that woman surely can," he offered, "Or perhaps I could call Silverfox? She seems to have quite the way with people."

She shot him an exasperated look, shoving a forkful into her mouth before looking back down.

"Swallow," he demanded.

Sighing, she complied, before returning to tracing her finger across the table.

"Would you care for a pen?"

"No."

"I will definitely be seeing you," he nodded, before sauntering outside. The tent flaps blew behind him, brushing delicately against his cape. As soon as he left she unleashed an enormous sigh, running her hands through her hair.

"Have you ever considered an acting career Ms. Baxley?" Magneto called from outside.

"Leave me alooone," Hannah moaned, pressing her forehead against the table's cool wood.

He laughed darkly before leaving for real.

"You're holding up pretty well," a thin man in his mid-forties sat beside her, offering a kind smile.

"Hey," she pointed at him, shaking her finger, "Weren't you…"

"Yeah," he grinned, and without a moment's hesitation he grew about an extra two hundred pounds, "I'm Steatokinetic, I stretch the fat deposits in my body. My pals call me Phat," he extended a hand.

She eyed it, not moving to shake, "Okay, I'm not calling you Fat for starters."

"No, it's with a P-h, like cool or hip. Phat," he didn't notice her blatant disinterest, "But I guess you could call me William… Magneto wouldn't like it…"

"I don't give a damn what Magneto'd like Will," Hannah tensed, prepared for him to still be lurking outside.

"Oh- I- uh-" he was confused, not used to such hatred towards their leader, "I'll- see you around. Maybe," he shrunk back down, stumbling out of the tent.

She waited a moment, making sure he was gone, before drifting out herself. She busied herself observing the multitude of colorful tents, before confronting a nearby mutant.

"Hey, Hedgehog! Spikey? Spines? Thorny?" she taunted the Asian.

"It's Quill," he deadpanned, "What do you want?"

"Where's Magneto, Spikes?" she folded her arms.

"He's in his tent. It's by the fire pit, near the center. Pretty big. Hard to miss," he restrained a ruder answer, "And it's Quill."

"Call yourself whatever you'd like," she called over her shoulder, walking towards the fire pit, "Spikes."

His fists clenched involuntarily as he tried to steady his breathing. His badass persona wasn't taking kindly to the emotional beating the fifteen year old was dealing. Magneto had said 'be kind to her' 'we need her' 'she's been through a lot'. To hell with that. If she crossed him one more time…

It wouldn't be pretty.

Magneto glanced up briefly as Hannah exploded into his massive navy tent. It would be more suitable for a circus- much less the dwelling of one man.

"So, _boss_, what's the big plan?" her voice dripped with sarcasm as she plopped her elbows onto the grand mahogany table he had been working on.

_You're my eyes and ears._

She'd do it. For Spencer if nothing else.

"A sudden change it heart perhaps?" he didn't dare hope, but her newfound interest peaked his curiosity.

"You could say that," she gave a tight lipped smile.

"Well, if you must know," his eyes fell back to the large map he had been marking in crimson ink, "A demonstration in Times Square is in our near future."

"Oh really?" she lounged against the desk, "Fascinating."

"Ms. Baxley, if your visit has no real purpose, I have a matter I've been meaning to discuss," he paused, looking up, "Your name."

"Oh, I actually heard aout that," she straightened, "And Fat? Real respectable. Strikes fear into the heart of mortal men. You _really_ nailed that one."

"He chose his true title, disregarding his slave name for-" Magneto began.

"William or Fat? Hm, real hard choice," Hannah interrupted.

"Ms. Baxley, if you do not choose within the week, I will choose for you. And as you have made clear, you don't seem to fully approve of my taste," he gave her a long, meaningful look.

"Fine. I'll consider it," she couldn't imagine going through the rest of her life with a name like 'Fat', "SO," she cleared her throat, "What exactly's going on in Time Square?"

"Merely a demonstration Ms. Baxley," he refocused his attention on the map.

"When?"

"I'm looking at next Tuesday," he grinned wryly, his tone suggesting he was discussing going to the movies or making a doctor's appointment.

"Alright," she nodded, backing up, "Cool beans. Where'd you put my stuff again?"

"Ah," he breathed, believing to have discovered the true nature of her visit, "It has been set up in your tent. Mystique will accompany you," the blue woman stepped from the shadows.

"Geez, way to make an entrance. Usually I like to be informed before I'm creepily watched from the shadows," she rubbed the back of her neck warily. Instead of responding Mystique just sashayed ahead, forcing Hannah to jog to catch up.

"So," Hannah coughed, "Why don't- you, you know- wear clothes?"

"I don't believe I have to cover up who I am," Mystique responded robotically, not turning around.

"Yeah, there's a fine line between 'not covering up who you are' and indecent exposure," Hannah pointed out as helpfully as possible. The rest of the walk was plagued in silence, and as soon as they arrived Mystique once again disappeared.

Quickly digging through her old clothes, Hannah immediately found her cellphone. Dashing to the corner she dialed a well-rehearsed number.

"Stryker? Yeah I got something for you. What do you know about Times Square?"


	8. Foresight

"Hm?" Hannah rubbed her eyes, arching her back. Something had woken her up, and she was determined to figure out what it was. Glancing at the far wall, she shivered despite herself.

Silhouetted against the tent's faded wall, a figure stood. It didn't move, simply staring as if they could see her through the tent. Tentatively crawling out of her cot she peeked through the flap, meeting the Wolverine's wary gaze. Gaping up at him, they stared in silence.

"Come on," he turned, stalking away.

_I'd adopt a kinder tone._

_ You're my eyes and ears._

_ Spencer._

"I- I- no. I can't," she sighed.

"What?" he growled, whipping around.

"She's not being held here Logan," Magneto stepped from the shadows, "She can leave anytime she wishes."

"What's taking so- oh," Cyclops stopped in his tracks, seeing Magneto. Smirking, the villain put a possessive hand on Hannah's shoulder.

"What d'you mean she can leave?" the Wolverine cocked his head.

"She can leave," Cyclops turned to him, "That's great."

Magneto cast her a long look. Eyes on the ground, she quietly responded, "I'm not leaving. I- I'm sorry."

"No," Wolverine snapped, "No, you're coming back with us, one way or another."

"Are you _threatening _me?" she was suddenly defensive, unhappy with his aggressive tone.

"Call it whatever you-"

_Logan._

_ Logan, please._

"What?" he frowned, confusing all in present company.

"_Logan, come back to the Blackbird. Tonight is not the night_," the Professor communicated telepathically, "_I will explain_."

"Next time," Wolverine pointed threateningly at Hannah. Grabbing Cyclops's shoulder, he towed him away.

"What are you-" Cyclops complained.

"The Professor."

Cyclops went silent, falling into pace. They pulled themselves up the Blackbird's ramp, staring pointedly at the Professor. He looked gloomily into the distance, before slowly looking at the twosome.

"What the hell just-"

"Storm, we have a change in plans. Please take us too 405 South Rosamond Boulevard Edwards Air Force Base, California 93524," he glanced at her.

"And what the hell is at the Edwards Air Force Base!?" Wolverine seethed, thoroughly fed up.

"Spencer."

"I'm proud of you Ms. Baxley," Magneto glanced down.

"Yeah, well I'm not," she strode away, flopping into her makeshift bed.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of," he loomed over her, "You made your choice."

"I don't know," she sighed, rolling over to face away. He watched her carefully for a moment before losing interest. Stepping out with the unmistakable swish of his cape, he left Hannah in solitude once more.

_What have I done?_

_ My one chance…_

_ Spencer._

"You seem tense."

Hannah squealed, rolling off her bed. Glaring up from the floor, she cautiously watched her newest adversary.

"Quill."

"Hannah," he grinned.

"What do you want?" she hissed.

"Well," he began, a wicked grin still coating his face, "My good friend Magneto's been thinkin' you need a name, so I'm here to 'convince' you."

"I don't want a-"

"Wrong answer," he grabbed her by her shirt, physically throwing her into her cot, "Let's try again. Pick a name."

She grunted, clutching her aching ribs.

"How about, Pain in the Ass?" he stalked forward, "Bitch? Or maybe Whore?"

"Well," she coughed, "I wanted 'Spikes', but it was already taken."

"That's it!" he seethed, dragging her out of the tent by her collar. Slamming her into the dirt, he released his quills menacingly.

"Eh heh heh, that's not really necessary…" Hannah crawled back slowly.

"Oh no," he chuckled, "It really is."

"No it is not," Magneto grabbed his shoulder violently, pulling him back, "Just _what _do you think you're doing?"

"Sorry chief," Quill mumbled, tearing his shoulder away. Without another word, he stomped back into the woods.

Instead of offering a comforting hand, or doing any sort of kind gesture, Magneto simply stared down coldly, "Have you chosen yet?"

"Not your bitch," she snarled, trying to get her footing.

He gripped her wrist, pushing her back into the ground. After trying to struggle for a few seconds, she finally looked him in the eye.

"You listen to me," he breathed in her ear, "I refuse to deal with your insolence for a second longer. If you do not choose a true name this instant, I might decide I no longer desire a precognitive artist."

"Okay! Okay, geez, just give me a second," she glowered.

"How about…"

"Five."

"What kind of name is Five?" Hannah glared.

"Four."

"Oh! Oh, okay. Um… um… ahhh decisions," she stammered.

"Three."

"Erm, how about Precognition?"

"Two."

"FORESIGHT!"

"Foresight?" he asked, rolling it off his tongue, "Yes, Foresight. Now, was that so hard?"

She sighed, curling into a ball on the ground. Foresight. Foooooresight. It just sounded right, somehow.

_What have I gotten myself into?_

**So, I just finished my fourth Fanfic, which is a big deal for me. It's called Unstoppable. You should check it out if you haven't already.**

**Z-Quelly**


	9. Rescue

"Sir?"

"No."

"No, what?" Spencer's face descended into confusion, as he stubbornly stared into the difficult mercenary's eyes.

"Whatever you were going to say," Wade explained carefully, "The answer is no," he finished before resuming polishing his sword. As he devotedly scrubbed the fine metal, Spencer tried again.

"Wouldn't it be a bit more interesting than that?" he nodded to the katana.

"You dare assume," Wade stood, baring his weapon dangerously, "That whatever you want is more interesting than my babies?"

"Your babies?"

"Yeah you're probably right," Wade carelessly pushed the swords off of his lap, letting them clatter to the cold metal floor, "What do you want?"

"Can I go outside? It's dark in here," he whimpered, releasing the most intense puppy eyes he could muster.

Ever since Hannah had been transferred, Spencer had been spending his days in the same dank metal cell. While he was well taken care of, it was definitely not the right environment for a growing boy. Every day he was guarded by some member of Stryker's team, who distributed the food and medication that kept him human. Spencer's least favorite was Victor, who simply stared at him the entire day, sharpening his claws and grinning threateningly whenever Spencer accidently made eye contact. Wade was definitely preferred, or even Jimmy if he was lucky.

"Negatory."

"Why _not_?" Spencer whined, folding his arms over his ratty t-shirt.

"Boss man wants you in close quarters, so you're nice and close when your big sissy comes for you," he winked.

"Where is she?" he glared up at the older man, hatred clouding his eyes.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, she's fine. If you _really_ want to I can walk you around the base."

"Yes please!" he dropped his defensiveness at the aspect of leaving his cramped cell.

"Alright, one tour of the Island it is. Please keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times," he unlocked the cell door, "If you feel like vomiting, cramping, or trying to escape, I will kill you on site. Any questions?"

Spencer quickly shook his head, rushing out the cell before he changed his mind. Grasping firmly onto Wade's hand, he glanced eagerly at the door.

Wade smirked slightly before pushing open the heavy iron doors, waiting as Spencer rushed over to the window, admiring the view outside.

"Hey, kid? I'm on a tight schedule…"

With no further urging he hurried back to Wade's side, fervent to finally stretch his legs. With long strides the mercenary carried him down the hall, through another set of doors, and to the labs.

"What are these for?" Spencer stood on his tip toes to view the instruments coating the spotless counters.

"This is where they make your- ah treatment," his gaze swept the lab, "And where they're gonna fix me up."

"Fix you up?"

"Yeah. I'm- I'm sick. And they're going to make me better," he explained.

"Do you have a fever?" Spencer inquired, hopping onto one of the stools, "Mommy always gave me grape medicine when I had a fever. It didn't taste very good."

"Nah, not a fever kid. It's a bit worse than that," he sighed, a wistful smile never leaving his face. A door was thrown open with a _thud_ and Wade jumped to his feet, "Okay! Tour's over! Time to go _now_!"

"WILSON!" Victor barked, "What are you doing?"

"Come on come on come on," Wade murmured, hiding Spencer behind him.

"Who's that?"

"Okay," a smile widened Wade's face as he tightened his grip on the boy's hand, "Run."

"WADE!" Victor roared, and his hurried footsteps joined theirs. Spencer cast Wade a worried look, but if was met with an insane, adrenaline fueled grin.

Caught up in a mixture of rage and the hunt itself, Victor's feral side began taking over, giving his movements a feline grace. Now using his hands as well, he bounded off of the nearest wall, scattering medical equipment across the laboratory. Wade tore through the side door, sliding the lock into place. Still panting, he turned to his smaller companion, before bursting out laughing. Spencer's mouth fell open, wondering about his savior's sanity.

Victor began to bang on the door, shaking it to its very foundations. Still chuckling, Wade strode over to the door.

"Slowing down in your old age Creed?" he pressed his lips to the wood.

In response Victor shoved his claws through the door, inches form impaling his teammate.

"Yeah, time to go."

Wade once again seized the child's hand, but stopped to look at him. His face was bright red, and he was panting so hard it looked like he was about to pass out.

"Change of plans," Wade decided, before throwing Spencer into his arms. He began tearing down the hallway just as Victor barreled _through_ the door. Shaking bits of splinters off his coat he raced after them.

_WWWEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOO_

The two men froze, flashing red lights and sirens taking over the once silent environment.

"Get the kid back to his cell," Victor growled, adopting a defensive stance.

"Yep. Got it," Wade nodded, tightening his hold on Spencer. Spencer gripped his shirt tighter in response, clutching on for dear life as they twisted through the Island's endless corridors.

"M-mr. Wilson," Spencer stammered, "What's going on?"

"Intruders on the Island," he was completely serious for once, "Did you hear that?" he stood motionless, listening. Setting Spencer down , he drew his swords.

Someone set a hand on Spencer's shoulder, making him jump. He turned around, coming face to face with a familiar looking man. He resembled Victor, with the same facial hair and build, but he had a softer air to him. He motioned forward, tilting his head towards the door behind him. Spencer nodded rapidly, allowing the newcomer to push him through.

Wade whipped around at the sound of the lock clicking into place, noticing the absence if his charge. He sprinted over to the door, futilely pulling at the handle.

"God damn," he cursed, plunging his blade through the door.

"W-who are you?" Spence eyed the man, trying to figure out if he was friend or foe.

"I'm the guy who's going to get your ass out of here," Wolverine grabbed his tiny arm, pulling him towards the side exit.

"Where are you taking me?" he held his ground.

The Wolverine sighed, turning to face the defiant little boy, "I'm takin' you to your sister."


End file.
